


Fall To Pieces

by oakleyfraser4



Series: John Murphy & Emori's Forever [10]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Could Be Canon, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Feelings, Hurt/Comfort, Memori is Endgame, Non-Graphic Smut, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, The 100 (TV) Season 7, The 100 (TV) Season 7 finale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:34:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26769565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oakleyfraser4/pseuds/oakleyfraser4
Summary: "The world could fall to pieces, so long as he had Emori in his arms."Canon-compliant scene with the Memori mindspace scene in The 100 series finale.*MAJOR SPOILERS FOR SEASON 7*
Relationships: Emori/John Murphy (The 100)
Series: John Murphy & Emori's Forever [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1760818
Comments: 12
Kudos: 24





	Fall To Pieces

**Author's Note:**

> All my Memori feels from 7x16 are in this fic. I apologize now. I'm absolutely, postively 100% in love with John and Emori (if you didn't know) and I'm not ashamed. They taught us how to love without conditions and I will always be thankful for that. 
> 
> This fic is for Riley ["(@memoriibaby)"](https://z-p3.www.instagram.com/memoriibaby/?hl=en) she requested “Memori mindspace smut with feelings”. Thus I bring you, Fall To Pieces. I hope you enjoy.
> 
> A couple of these lines were inspired by a book series called “The Selection” by Keira Cass. I rephrased them to be my own, but I was inspired by Keira’s books at one point.

It was peaceful being free.

Free of pain, free of hurt, suffering and worry. Free of feelings, especially the ones that hit like a ceiling falling on top of you. Emori could speak from experience that it hurt to have tons of concrete crash over top of you; not only quenching all places of escape, but in turn separating you from your love. The one person who made all this fighting to survive, all this existing, worth it. Emori had felt the pain her John felt, but kept it inside. She didn’t cry. He did at times, in the middle of the night when everyone else in Sanctum was asleep. Emori knew he liked to hold her close, fingers entwined in his because her being there for him kept him grounded. Gave him reason to put himself into the position of a hero. He was a hero to her, and he always had been. It just was about time other people saw John Murphy the way Emori saw him.

Though now, Emori was stripped of those feelings, that pain. She was finally at peace with herself. She didn’t know what had happened, however she couldn’t help but wonder where John was. If she had transcended, whatever that meant, he would too. It was only what he deserved. And there was no way in hell she would be going somewhere new without him. _Take me back to him_ , she wanted to scream. 

Emori opened her eyes. There was a moment of panic, as a shiver was sent down her spine. She breathed in once, then again, lips trembling. The place she was in felt unfamiliar, yet as she sat up, it looked like the palace. Perhaps the trip back to Sanctum hadn’t been such a haze after all. Was she in Kaylee Prime’s bed? Soft silken sheets withered their way between her fused fingers. For all their glory and grace, the Primes really did have the nicest things. Perhaps that was another part of ‘playing primes’ that Emori liked.

Wherever she was, Emori could tell automatically she wasn’t herself. A dress of green satin with black lace trim covered her slim figure, cutting in at the waist. She breathed in, watching as the fabric moved with the curve of her body, and Emori felt nostalgic all of a sudden. The memories of John holding her waist delicately in his hands, as he took all of her in during those late nights after their long days. As a prime, you’d think they slept longer and more deeply than any other citizen of Sanctum. But for Emori and John, they slept the least because in the depths of night, they connected like never before. Underneath the sheets as their bodies became one, their souls and minds joined too. A world of ecstasy only one person, one man in the world could bring her too. Emori was only sad that in this place of utter perfection, she was alone.

The light seemed to come from an invisible source. Said source had also healed her wound, the wound she would take over and over again if it meant John was okay and safe. The bleeding she would endure for her family, Echo and Raven especially. John hated seeing her in pain but he would be able to live without her. She was doing good wherever she was. Maybe if she died, John would be able to live a life that didn’t require thinking about her survival all the time. He needed to do things for himself. Being with her only endangered his life.

_Emori, that’s crazy talk,_ she heard in her head, as she rose from the bed and walked towards the window. _John would be nothing without you_. The voice sounded so alike to her love’s; was it him? No, it couldn’t be because in this place, she was alone.

Through the cracks in the curtains, a beacon of light seemed to shine. Emori parted the fabric, which spilled an endless golden hue into her room. The place she was in overlooked a dessert. _The Dead Zone_ . The place she found herself, in a complete stranger. John always said she meant everything to him, when in reality, he was everything to _her_. She never would have come to Earth aboard a ship for which she spent one hundred and twenty-five years in, in cryo. Without him, she never would have been given a reason to survive. Emori was thankful for everything he had done for her; everything he would continue to do for her. She loved him, with every fiber of what she was, she loved him.

“I remember that,” a voice spoke from behind her. Emori turned, almost losing her breath when she saw the figure standing there. _John_. She smiled, standing in amazement that he made it to this place the same as she had. “The place we first met. Love at first knife to throat.” His chuckle sent another shiver down her spine. His tone of voice was the same that he had in their bed, whispering words only meant for her ears.

She couldn’t stop the corners of her mouth turning up, as he stared at her. Her knees felt weak, as if she could fall over at any point in time. Emori knew if that happened, John would be right there to catch her, as he always had. Emori looked right back at him, his gaze unwavering as he took in the vision of beauty in front of him. “Oh, you are so beautiful,” he breathed. Her stomach fluttered, the same way it did back in the Dead Zone. The way he turned up the corner of his lips in a smile for her, sharing his precious water with a girl he didn’t know. He took a chance on her, in that moment. And his chance ended up dealing him a whole-goddamned fortune. A fortune he knew he could never take for granted.

It was the way John’s gaze stayed holding hers as he complimented her. As his fiancée, Emori knew John loved her figure, with the way her hips turned in and her chest pushed out when she showed off for him. He smiled and would kiss her hungrily, whispering naughty things in her ear. She’d laugh and while they played primes, they always had to be so careful so no one would call them out for incest. As much as she wanted to rip John’s clothes off at all times, dignity and remembering the role she was playing always sat at the front of her conscious. However, his eyes looking into hers as he said those words about her being beautiful, that was everything to her. He saw her true beauty, the irresistible fire of her soul, through her eyes. John didn’t need to flick his gaze over her delicate frame to find her attractive. She just, was.

Emori’s head was swimming with emotions, as she tilted her head upwards to look at him. “John, where are we?” She asked, looking around at the sight before her. Besides what was outside, she had only really looked at John. Now she took in how very much like the Sanctum Palace this place was.

“Josephine called it the mindspace,” John answered, cocking his head to focus on her better. “If it were up to me, I would have chosen our cave, but-” He stopped speaking, as Emori travelled her hand up his chest, feeling the hard muscle under her fingertips through the rough fabric of his shirt. His chin dipped down, regarding her delicate touch. Her hand stopped just on his heart, which John was sure Emori could feel beating wildly. Her mind attempted to process what John had just told her.

Whether it was his aching heart she could sense though his pulsing skin, or the way his gaze tore at her insides, Emori was hit with the realization of what had happened, and why exactly she was in his place of utter beauty. “I died.”

He nodded, a watery gaze clouding his iridescent blue eyes. “You did.” John’s set expression faltered every so slightly, as he pushed through the emotions he had felt when she passed on. In the way he always chose to move past hard feelings, he smirked and told her, “Not acceptable.”

Emori let out a huff, one that was both a laugh and sassy, for when John placed limits on Emori, she was bound to exceed them. He knew that, of course, which is why he rarely did. It was in a moment of time like this, when he did it. To get a rise out of her, perhaps.

_If I’m dead, how am I here having this conversation,_ Emori thought. Something didn’t line up. She thought back to Josephine and what a shared mindspace meant. _Mind drives_ . John’s proposal gift; the gift of forever. “You put my mind drive in your head,” she said, slowly. John didn’t say anything, only nodded slightly. “Two minds, one body. You’ll die, too.” The hard hit of the truth came like a giant wave. _No. You’re not dying for me_.

Emori thought the answer was plain and simple. “You’ll have to take it out.” John knew she wouldn’t understand that he had put it into his head because he wanted another moment like this with her. Another chance at forever. Maybe their forever wasn’t going to be for a long time, but it was going to be theirs.

Her hand still lingered near his collar bone. He sucked in air, as he told her, “Without you, I’d just be surviving, Emori. I wouldn’t be living.” The emotional gravity in each word, the words he meant with his whole heart. John Murphy was known to be a survivor, one that would do anything to save his own ass. Though these past few days, weeks, months, he had realized he wasn’t surviving anymore. He was living, all because of her. He survived for himself, but he lived for her. Experienced life. Laughed, loved and made love to. She was his whole world. His heart. With her hand over the pulsing muscle deep within his chest, she had never felt closer.

“No.” Emori’s opinion on the matter was short and clipped. She tried to back away, to separate him from her. But he held on, not bearing to have their skin untouching for even a moment. 

“Hey, hey, hey,” he said, cupping her face in his hands. John felt as though he had been doing this a lot. It was more intimate than a hand on her waist, he felt. He felt as though it was ultimate trust, to be able to have so much control over the part of the body that expressed so much. Her face with it’s scars both visible and invisible. Ones he knew lay beneath the surface of her cheekbones, the skin that held so much. He couldn’t imagine not being able to feel the roughness of her cheeks beneath his finger tips or brush the tears from her eyes as they fell. The thought made him emotional, and he held tight to her. “I would take a few more hours with you over forever without.”

Her heart breaking, Emori’s lower lip trembled. She stared at this shell of a man in front of her. This fragile person hiding behind a stoic expression and a mountain of sarcasm. Some people think they know John but they only know who he chooses to show them. It’s Emori though, who really knew him. Or maybe she knew most of him, because right now she thinks he’s being irrational with his emotions. Risking his life to have a few more hours with her? No way. If Emori has anything to do with it, she will not let him stop living to help her. No way in heaven, hell or mindspace. “No, no, no.” She said aloud, breaking away from his touch. “You can’t do this. I won’t let you do this, so wake up.”

John could see the pain in her face as she pushed him away. “Emori.” 

“Wake up.” She shoved him, her fingertips pressing hard against his chest. He can feel heat lingering where she touched him and all he wants to do is drink her in. Her smell, the feel of her lips on his, a hand running through her curls. But she’s shouting at him. “Just wake up! Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!” The raw desperation in her voice cuts through his heart; she wants him to go. How can he explain to her that every cell in his being functions for _her_? He wouldn’t have a life without her. And he refused to, which is the reason he was ready to carve Emori’s mind drive out of her head in a desperate pursuit of saving her himself.

Emori took her pleas to a whole new level, as she frantically scanned the room of supposed paradise. She searched for a way to contact someone outside this mindspace; someone who could tell Murphy not to waste his life on her. She was already gone. He still had a chance. “Jackson! Jackson, wake him up!”

“Emori.” John saying her name normally made Emori smile and feel weak. She was anything but at the moment. 

John followed her as she moved across the room, holding out from crumbling to the ground in sobs until a more appropriate time. Don’t let him do this! Jackson!” Emori screamed, her voice straining.

That was enough. John couldn’t bear to let her cry out any longer. His heart had already been broken today, crushed into a thousand pieces when her heart flatlined. He wouldn’t survive it happening again. So he grabbed her, wrapping his arms over hers, pinning her flailing limbs to her body. She struggled-Emori wasn’t weak to say the least-but he was used to pinning her. Normally it was against the wall, though when she wasn’t herself, John could make use of the ability for this reason. “John, John!” She cried out, louder and more desperate. There was no way she was letting him do this. Not for her. Never for her. Growing up worthless taught her to never be a problem, or else she’d be treated harshly. She was taught to keep quiet, never let anyone do anything in place of her. Her survival was based on her instincts alone. Meeting John surely put a wrench in her one self-made rule. It was one thing when they were working together. However, now it was only John keeping her grounded. If she needed to go free for him to forget about saving her, that’s what she would do. Before she felt peace being free. Now free felt painful, but if she sacrificed herself for John then it would be okay.

It was a matter of who would break first. John’s grip on her hadn’t loosened and her screaming hadn’t quieted. Nothing was getting through to Emori. She wasn’t focusing, and she was practically shaking as she wrestled against him. At last, five words broke through the haze of her mind and reached her core. “This is okay with me.” John told her. He told her the words he never thought he’d say. His face crumpled, as he understood those words he had just said.

_This is okay with me_ . Okay, he was using his last few hours alive to be in the mindspace with the person who taught him to live. Okay, to die at the hands of love. Okay to fall apart for her because hell, she made him fall apart. She fucking _made him fall apart_. Only her. Only Emori. His girl, his true love, his forever. That was all he needed. And in those five words, he understood that.

It was now Emori’s turn to realize. “No. It’s not okay with me.” Emori shot back. She moved to leave John’s grasp one last time, and he held tight, feeling that her fight was ending now. The dry sobs were racking her body, her heart rate dangerously fast. John was worried but as long as her heart was beating and she wasn’t flatlining, he was okay. Hearing that blaring line beep on the monitor would haunt his waking and sleeping hours until the end of time, he was sure of it. But he’d deal with it, because Emori was here right now. At this moment, she was with him. In his arms where she belonged.

“It’s okay. It’s okay.” John’s tone lowered, and he whispered the words to her. They were never the type of couple to yell or scream, unless upset. Whispering was their thing, the way he whispered words to her when he thought she was asleep. And the way she told him things about her past in a whisper, saying words only for each other. Whispers could only be heard by those meant to hear them, John and Emori liked to believe.

Their breath mingled as they both heaved sighs. His body was still pressed up tightly against hers; he wasn’t thinking of moving anytime soon. In the distance, a tune rang out. Emori was the first to recover, most likely looking for a distraction. “What is that?” she asked, calming almost automatically in John’s embrace.

John let out a short breath when he figured it out. Emori was confused, but John was quick to explain. “The last time I asked you to dance, you stabbed me with a butcher knife.” They had just gotten back together and had just set foot in Sanctum. They both knew it was because of the Red Sun Toxin, at least now they did. Back then, he was confused as to why his girlfriend-now she was his fiancée-was trying to kill him. Now they were technically going to die. If it was one thing John wanted, he wanted to dance with his girl.

A small smile broke through Emori’s lips. “Relationships,” she said.

“Yeah.” John smiled too. He paused only or a moment to collect himself, then offered out his hand. Emori, who had predicted what he wanted, only hesitated for a moment before gently placing her hand in hers. Their fingers brushed before they melted together, like two water droplets finding themselves to be more powerful together. John relaxed in the way her arm clung her to him, as if she was holding on for dear life. Afraid to lose her, his arms hold tight at about the height of her shoulder blades. A tear dropped onto her arm, the reason being John’s eyes were watering. He didn’t care though. He had his Emori in his arms. The world could fall to pieces, so long as he had Emori in his arms.

The statement had never been truer. Outside their shared mindspace, a “last war” was raging. A last war that Murphy already fought, when he lost Emori. Now he had her, and though it wasn’t going to be for forever, it was enough. She was enough. Everything that made her happy, well that was enough for him. 

He breathed in. The smell of home in her hair, loving the way her body fit just right against hers. They were, perhaps it was true, endgame. Until the bitter end, they would be together. John and Emori. Falling over and over for each other, until one plunged into the deep end. Pulling the other with them. For they were the same mind now, all jokes aside. Together, forever and ever.

Before the song was over, John had pulled back and was pressing his lips to Emori’s. This time, she didn’t hesitate. She kissed him back just as passionately, pressing her body tighter up against her. One of his arms slid down her back, an agonizing trail really. The dress she was wearing wasn’t exactly thick, and he could feel her wanting him. He didn’t hide what he felt. All the emotions they had felt over the past few days, well they were about to put them all into what they did best; loving each other. Unconditional love was what they had. And unconditional love, even with the condition of looming death over their heads, well that wouldn’t stop them from what they wanted to do.

Their lips parted as Emori shoved John again, this time so that he would fall back onto the bed. He tipped back, happy to oblige and scooted backwards on the blankets, ditching his shoes on the way. Emori let out a giggle, then crawled overtop of him. He grunted and she giggled some more. A smirk formed on his face, a finger darting out as he pushed the left strap of her dress off her shoulder. She watched as he repeated the action on the other side, until her dress just slipped off and ended somewhere on the floor.

It was then that he took her in. All of her, her scars, her imperfections, her bare skin. Her badass hand splayed out on his chest, fitting in the curves of his chest. His heart beat loudly because they were so close to really being together. No interruptions in their mindspace. Sort of like a level heading to heaven, for them.

Her turn to stare at him was next. She pushed the fabric of his shirt open, his belt buckle fumbling between her fingers. The hard, pleated lines of his chest and the way she knew he was his. Bullet wound scars were only visible to her eyes, for she was the only who really looked at the war marks on his skin. Each was a memory she wished she could forget. But then again, they made him the man he was today. The man she was undyingly in love with. The man who was willing to sacrifice his lifetime for her, in exchange for a few hours of her time. What an exchange. Yet he had made it and without hesitation.

There was a moment of silence. A beat. A pause. Then they come crashing back together, and it’s anything but slow and steady. It’s passion, heat and desire and everything they want to feel together. It’s the heated kisses Emori presses to John’s chest; in turn his hand slipped between her legs. A muffled groan escapes her lips and he chases her quiet with another kiss. They’re falling, together all at once.

The covers were pulled back and Emori fell to the side as John pulled the sheet over their heads. It’s stuffy, but Emori’s laughing. “What’s this for?” She asked, not minding them stopping for a moment.

“You liked the palace. I liked our cave. This is how we have both,” John explained.

Emori’s heart was bursting as she smiled up. Her forever was staring right back at her, his blue gaze searching her brown one. “I love you.” 

“I love you.” He echoed her words. In his eyes was nothing but love. The invisible force that held him to this mindspace. The invisible line that was keeping him to his humanity. Love.

If this was going to be the way to go, so be it. Love at all costs. John was the unlovable; Emori, the unloved. Between the two of them they created meaning to the word. Show love, give love, make love. It was all together.

When they came together once and for all, John struggled to hold on, waiting for Emori to fall apart before he did. Though it shouldn’t have come as a surprise when they both came undone together. Breathing heavy, bodies spent from not just this activity. The pair of survivors had been through so much in the last short while. They were _living_. And it was fucking incredible.

After while curled up in John’s arms, Ermori’s feelings were starting to come back, John could tell. He kissed her head, and his fingers found hers. They laced together, him softly squeezing. His mouth moved to press against her ear. “Think you can love me forever?” He whispered.

A small smile made its way onto Emori’s face. She turned in his arms and lay her head on his bare chest. “I’ll love you forever. Even when we die today.” The change of wording compared to her proposal answer hurts but at least he’s here with her. Just as it should be and always will be.

“Just think, while they’re fighting a war out there, you and I are loving in here. I wonder if it was this peaceful in the mindspace for Clarke.”

“We’re fighting our own war, John.” Emori said, glancing up to meet his gaze. “A war of love. And I don’t think the mindspace was exactly the place of happiness for Clarke, considering Josephine was trying to kill her and all.”

John chuckled. “Right.” With his free hand, he brushed the hair out of Emori’s eyes. “You are the most perfect person in this universe.”

“I’ll admit, you’re kinda hot.” Emori winked and John snuck a quick kiss. She giggled again, then became serious. “John, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

This girl managed to tear John apart every time. She had the power to reduce him to a stuttering mess. Maybe that was why only her happiness mattered. He would be okay in the end, so long as she was okay. “I-I love you. And I know you’re perfect. I don’t need to be, because you are. When we die today, it’ll be okay. I love you.”

Tears sprung to Emori’s eyes, mimicking the ones already in John’s. “I love you,” she whispered, snuggling closer to John. This was how they were going to die, and surprisingly, they were both at peace with it.

The two broken halves of forever lay together, finally whole. They had each other, and that was all that mattered. If the world was in shambles around them, they wouldn’t know. When they passed on, they would be together.

Both started out in the world alone. Both grew up alone. Both thought that alone was the only thing they’d ever feel. Then finally, two ‘lones found love.

Love. What a funny word. It had the power to break people up, only to have them fall back together again and tear them apart. It dictated irrational choices and rational fears. People may fall to pieces because of it, with another picking up the pieces. Whatever it was, Emori and John had found it.

It was love, found.

**Author's Note:**

> I can't believe The 100 is really over. I was very happy with the ending because Memori was endgame. They got their "forever". The finale was amazing and I will not be taking criticism on that. I just hope you loved it as much as I did. May we meet again.
> 
> Wanna chat about this fanfic or any of my other fanfics? Come find me on [Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/memoriisendgame/) or [Tumblr](https://memoriisendgame.tumblr.com) whenever you want. Thank you for reading!


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